Posting some pics of the 6FTM Lunar Series. This the Year of the ’06 Dog. They came out with two editions that year. I’ve only this one, which has a very fancy neipiao pictured in the third foto. It’s essentially a .10¢ note. Dunno if they are even still in circulation. Included are also some shots of the ’07 Pig, which was well received as noted below.

12 yo puerh

Each year is the same recipe, providing the best basis for comparing the differences from one year to the next. Overall, it is a tippy production with strong qi. As noted below, this taste tends to appeal quite a bit to Central Asians (Russians Central Asian?) and Westerners. This might be in part because it bears some resemblance to common black tea. The older productions take on more spice and notes, but the flowers never fade.

I’m sitting here clearing my throat with a gentle buzzing aftertaste of earthy and acrid Chinese herbs, not exactly ginseng but with that resonant taste of sapponins, asking myself what makes for an outstanding ripe puerh.  Beyond the obvious factor of taste, clarity is what separates really good puerhs from outstanding ones.  Clarity is the product of skill in green-kill and fermentation.  Even though some clarity will arise from storage, no amount of storage is likely to make up for less accomplished execution earlier in the process.

Have I been authorized to make such a proclamation?  No.  But tastes vary and what one prefers in a good puerh is to some extent impossibly subjective.  However, variables like clarity, evenness of release, and durability advance the discussion beyond just taste.  Yes taste will always be king but the king must have capable counsel to rule the kingdom.

Such a liege in addition to clarity I propose is huigan, which some believe is not “aftertaste” but which is.  Moreover, huigan is an overall intensity and effect in the mouth and throat after the tea is consumed.   Most of this effect is muted in ripes, but the outstanding ones still possess impressions of its raw origins or its essence.

Right now, I don’t believe any shu lands more squarely on all of the above attributes more than the ’06 T8371 by Zhongcha.

The Mahei is a tightly wrapped dragon pearl with good quality leaves and a remarkable aftertaste.  There is a fair amount of bitter.  The broth is sweet, with a fragrance and taste of melon insinuating itself through the session.  This melon sensation is evident on exhalations and the tingly taste of camphor plays on the tongue for quite a while.

It’s a good tea, maintaining a certain equilibrium throughout the sessions.  There is a very definite headiness.  The chaqi also has chest-opening action, and I can also sense a bit of warming circulating in the chest.

Dragon pearls are a bit like Carli Simon and Heinz catsup, a reference for those of you who experienced the 70s.  It’s “slow good,” was the saying from the commercial and dragon pearls are similarly slow.  Several infusions will be spent on just getting them to open.  The leaf material tends to be excellent but in contrast to maocha where all the leaves release at once, dragon pears release layer by layer.  It is not unlike me to sometimes sacrifice this procedure by soaking the dragon pearl for more the five minutes.

Since it is so tightly packed, you’ll get several infusions.  Throughout this two-day session, fourteen infusions were extracted.  Infusion times and temperatures varied.  The first four infusions were fairly light, but the mouthfeel remains consistently viscous, consistently sweet, and consistently gentle.

The ’11 Jing Mai Kilo is better than what it is. Yours truly is a roguish drinker. I like my brew thick and sweet. Whatever comes with it will depend on particulars but the foundation must always be thick and sweet. This treasure delivers for several solid infusions.

Two chunks of very solidly packed puerh of seven grams were thrown into a 120ml gaiwan. It was allowed to sit for about fifteen minutes after about a 30s rinse. Infusion times were perfect at 10s and water at 195f. All this makes perfect sense. Such tightly packed material requires a greater temp to release its goodness. Lighter packed cakes do not.

It’s easy to tell the difference. At this time and temp, the husky thick brew with a generous offering of smoke has no hint of veggies in it. Don’t get me wrong, I like veggies but I just don’t go looking for the taste of alfalfa and chlorophyll in my tea, especially puerh. I learned something about this vegetal taste being a sign of scorching the tea from an epicurean master located somewhere in Malaysia I believe. The impression rings true for this junky and, in following this master, I’ve returned to using much lower temperatures for lightly packed young puerh. It’s make a marked improvement in how the leaf material delivers irrespective of quality.
High grade Jing Mai Mt productions are exquisitely floral with varying amounts of bitterness. This brew does not meet that standard by a long shot. On the contrary, it is smoky like a Lapsang Suchong. Unlike Lapsang, however, it is very sweet, possessing a cane sugar sweetness along with an oily thick viscosity. Yum.

After seven infusions, the leaf material was agitated. Those chopped bits are nothing to write home about but they give off a fragrant sweet and smoky aroma. The clarity is decent, far from murky but not quite sparkling either. All told, this little gem was pushed for 13 infusions. All the while, the broth remained thick, smoky, and sweet with a slight emergent bitterness that was more a compliment than a mark of the leaves being pushed beyond their capacity.

As an aside, the ’11 Jing Mai kilo poses an interesting contrast to the ’11 Bulang Green Brick, a similarly styled smoky and long lasting offering by Xing Hai Tea Factory. On all accounts of thickness, sweetness, and smokiness, they are both very similar. The cha-qi and durability of the latter are stronger and it costs twice as much. Finally, although both are tightly packed bricks, the Bulang Green Brick has next to no stems and separates from the brick more easily. Those familiar with Xia Guan offerings might find some similarities as well. One big difference, however, is that Xia Guan’s material is from the Da Li, Wu Liang Mt region, which has characteristic medicinal notes.